


all my nights taste like gold

by bookworm1805



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Both of them, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Whipped culture, but also the cats, date night is a national holiday, i call wayv ten's kids bc they basically are, just like taeyong's lyrics, lee taeyong don't blush for ten minutes challenge, mentions of superm's as we wish drama on tvn, my fingers slipped and this got kinda kinky at parts, no beta i'm a control freak, resonance era, so sweet it's nauseating, superm one era, taeyong: marry my dumb ass, ten is playing for keeps, ten: let my dumb ass ask you first, this is the grossest thing i've ever written, truly, we fudged the logistics on this one so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm1805/pseuds/bookworm1805
Summary: The kids are traumatized, Kun opens his mouth and breaks Taeyong, Ten has Doyoung on speed-dial but Doyoung wouldn't sign the waiver to be here tonight, and nobody chokes on a surprise engagement ring.Or: Ten and Taeyong have a rare night off and spend it with each other.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 33
Kudos: 122





	all my nights taste like gold

**Author's Note:**

> hi i've spent the last ten months of my life trying not to write about this couple and i've finally cracked and puked out 12k words of the mushiest garbage so
> 
> enjoy :)
> 
> ignore all logistics re: their living situations, timeline, schedules, etc. set in the nebulous era of NCT 2020/tail end of SuperM promos
> 
> also! this fic references a lot of things from SuperM's recent appearances on tvn's As We Wish program, including (1) their romantic sketches and (2) the lee family's cafe adventures! for those unfamiliar with the program, i HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU WATCH (eng sub [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzyZ9SC0KdM&ab_channel=%E3%83%92%E3%83%ADHiroTV)), but also here's a super brief summary: 
> 
> (1) the members individually filmed a different romantic scene w/ a leading lady, and then the group watched them together and reacted. taeyong went absolutely berserk over ten's (adorable) sketch where he took his leading lady to an art gallery and proposed to her (with his own paintings!) <3
> 
> (2) ten, taeyong, and mark all worked at a hidden-camera cafe for a day and various actors came in posing as customers to mess with them. one actor came in pretending to propose to his gf, so they hid the ring in her omelet, and then the ring never appeared (the kitchen staff hid it lol), and the boys PANICKED and worried she'd eaten the ring
> 
> anyway here's this mess

The streets of Seoul are stained cotton-candy pink in the afterglow of fading sun when Taeyong's phone buzzes in his pocket. He pauses in front of the door to his building and shifts the bag of groceries as he pulls out his phone. “Hello?”

“Yongie!” Ten’s voice lilts sweetly through the phone. “Where are you right now?” 

Taeyong smiles and takes a glance at his surroundings. A nearby flock of three meandering pigeons coo and flutter in alarm as he takes a step towards them. _Sorry_ , he mouths at them. "Walking home. I just picked up some snacks from the store."

"Oh?" Ten chirps with interest. "What did you get?”

“Fruit,” Taeyong lies. “Every fruit they had.”

“Ey, don’t be rude!” comes the immediate reprimand. Taeyong swallows his laughter so he doesn't break the act. “Whatever, eat your fruit, but come to my room after, okay?”

“Hmmm,” Taeyong feigns uncertainty. “Why, is something up, Tennie?” 

He imagines the irritated frown and pinched expression accompanying Ten's snooty retort. "Louis misses his favorite heated chair." Taeyong hums a second time. "Don't _hmmm_ me, Lee Taeyong!" Ten snaps, the final proof his tactics have successfully riled him up. "Your wild 127 kids were here earlier today and scared my babies, you owe them!”

“Okay, okay,” Taeyong concedes defeat as if he hasn't been planning for this all day. "I'll be there in fifteen."

Ten, still petulant, snipes back, "You'd better," and hangs up on Taeyong's peals of pent up laughter.

Still chuckling, he swipes himself into his building with an extra pep in his step and a jaunty beat in his head. He waves at the doorman as he passes and punches the number of his floor into the elevator. 

He's more excited for tonight than anything else in recent memory. Taeyong feels blessed every day that he's able to pursue his passions as a career, but it's been weeks going on months of schedules packed from sunrise to midnight. A night of Ten and relaxation is exactly what he needs.

It doesn't take him long, because - as evidenced by his goodie bag of snacks - Taeyong planned ahead for tonight. He tosses on his favorite hoodie and joggers, crafts out a detailed _Fish Caretaking 101_ text thread to Johnny, and rings on the bell of the WayV dorm exactly thirteen minutes later.

The door swings open in seconds. "Yongie!" Ten, who must have been loitering in front of the door waiting for him, greets with a breathtaking smile. He's dressed comfortably, swimming in an oversized sweater and loose black pants. His attention snaps to the bag in his hand like a drug-sniffing dog and he makes a face. "You did _not_ bring your nasty fruit here."

Taeyong laughs, but Ten steps back to let him in anyway. He exchanges his sneakers for his usual pink-striped 'guest' slippers, which technically go unused by anyone else but him. They're a matching set with the black-striped pair Ten's currently wearing - Taeyong bought them for that reason, after all - but Taeyong wouldn't presume ownership over them. It's not like he lives here, ha!

The thought tickles at the back of his brain. Taeyong swats it away like a fly.

“I did not,” he agrees, handing off the bag to a skeptical Ten. He handles the bag between pinched fingers like the fruit particles on it might contaminate him. The cuffs of his large sweater swallow his entire hand, covering every inch but the very tips of his manicured nails. Something about the navy blue weave is familiar as Taeyong studies it. 

"Is that - my sweater?" he realizes.

"Yes!" Ten answers immediately. He sets the bag down on the counter to free up his hands for a pose. "I thought it would look cute on me."

He laughs at the shamelessness. “When did you even take it? I haven’t seen you in the dorm lately.”

Ten shrugs. “I was hanging out with Mark the other day and I saw it in your clean laundry hamper. You were out on a schedule.”

It's one of those things where Taeyong can't remember where he got it from. He's probably only worn the sweater once - it might have been a gift from another member or an impulse buy on a summer shopping trip. His eye is naturally drawn to the wide v-neck displaying Ten's pronounced collarbones and the stitches of delicate embroidery around the collar. The way it hangs off his narrow frame creates a different effect than the time Taeyong wore it.

“You were right," Taeyong admits. "It does look cute on you."

Ten winks and gives a little spin, then the sound of galloping feet and scratching nails bursts onto the scene as the cats finally notice the addition of a new voice in their home. They careen into the front room as Ten calls out a greeting, bee-lining for Taeyong and swarming him like fluffy sharks. They chirp little meows and rub against his ankles, tails flicked up happily. 

"Hi cuties." He squats down and scratches their little heads. Louis and Leon prop their front paws on his knee in synchrony as they crane their necks for pets and attention. "Did my scary group members traumatize you guys?" Leon purrs, decidedly _not_ traumatized, and Taeyong rubs obligingly under the cat's chin. 

There's a special kind of satisfaction that only comes from making an animal happy. Visits to the WayV dorms always take the edge off a stressful day, so he understands why his groupmates wanted to meet the famous animals. 

Louis, ever the attention seeker, takes Taeyong's neglect as a personal offense and hops back on the ground. He head buttsTaeyong's knee and glides the entire length of his body against it until Taeyong soothes his fingers down the cat's spine.

“They were very loud,” Ten confirms. “Louis only just came out from under my bed a few minutes ago.”

“Awww, you poor thing.” Taeyong strokes a gentle finger down the bridge of Louis’ nose, a trick that always melts the Siamese into a purring, boneless heap of fur to the shock of Ten's dorm mates, who claim the cat hates everyone but Ten. 

But Taeyong excels at taming difficult creatures. He shoots Ten a wry look. "Of course, no doubt they're accustomed to a very peaceful life living with Lucas, Hendery, and Yang Yang."

Ten glares without heat and starts unloading the groceries. "I broke my back training these cats not to run away every time Xuxi charged at them with his octopus-hands. I'm capable of a lot, but I don't think even _I_ have the power to train them for _Donghyuck_."

Taeyong ponders this. "Maybe I should train Donghyuck for the cats then?" 

Ten laughs as he places the final item down and balls up the grocery bag. "Also impossible."

"You're probably right." Taeyong pats the kitties goodbye and stands up. He leans against he counter and admires the spread of his carefully curated goodies. "So, how'd I do?"

Ten tosses the balled-up bag across the room, inciting the cat to shoot after it like rockets. They barrel after the toy as they kick it farther and farther across the room, until the three of them disappear into the hallway. Aside from the animals, Taeyong wonders if any of the other residents are home. Mark has dinner plans with some of the WayV kids tonight, so with a bit of luck he and Ten might have the dorm to themselves. 

With the sound of the cats still banging about the dorm, Ten shifts his attention to the counter and appraises it: two ice cold lattes, a bar of dark chocolate, a pint of ice cream, and two slices of brightly colored cake. 

After a few moments of consideration, Ten crosses his arms and meets his gaze. His lips curl in a sly grin. "You little sneak," he declares. "Did my manager give you my schedule? You've been planning for this, haven't you?"

Taeyong bites his lips closed and nods. Ten shakes his head, cheeks tinged the faintest pink while a grin stretches across his face. "Ah, what am I going to do with you?" he muses aloud. Taeyong throws his arms out in a silent shrug, and that's when Ten launches himself at him, lithe fingers jabbing with precision accuracy into all of Taeyong’s soft spots: under his arms, between his ribs, across his belly, and Taeyong's lips unseal with an explosion of laughter.

The next few minutes pass in a mess of limbs and the kind of happiness that starts deep in your gut and rises like champagne bubbles, intoxicating and uncontrollable, until cold fingers slip under his shirt and tickle his abs and Taeyong is shivering and so short of breath that he pants out a desperate surrender. “I give up, I give up!”

With one last grope Ten relents, but stays exactly where he is. He's close enough for Taeyong to smell hints of his spicy perfume and see traces of eyeliner from an earlier schedule. Taeyong runs his hands up and down Ten's waist, as mesmerized by the downy texture of the poached garment as he is by the way Ten is so radiant with victory and joy that he glows like a tiny sun in the twilight soaked dorm.

The two of them hold each other as their shared mirth peters off into little amused huffs, and then longer still.

Ten winds his fingers through the hair at the base of Taeyong's neck. "Thank you, Yongie." He bounces up to his tippy-toes and presses a kiss to his cheek.

He smiles at his boyfriend. “Any time, Tennie.”

Brushing their noses together in the sort of kitten-kiss he's seen Louis and Leon exchange when no one else is watching, Taeyong nuzzles in close and kisses the tip of Ten's nose upon retreat. It scrunches up reflexively, making him laugh, so he darts back in again and again, smacking kisses all over the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks. Ten struggles uselessly, trapped in the circle of Taeyong's arms, and smacks lightly balled fists against his chest in a final bid for freedom. Taeyong laughs and backs down.

"You'd think we hadn't seen each other in a year, not since this morning." Ten fusses, first fixing his hair and then straightening the collar of Taeyong's hoodie. From the way he can't quite keep the smug grin off his face, Taeyong interprets the words as a declaration of approval.

Once he's satisfied, Ten steps out from his arms and claps his hands together. “Okay! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Taeyong indicates the counter. "I already got the supplies."

Ten rubs his hands together and Taeyong accompanies him with a drumroll on the counter. "Then I officially declare it..." Ten orates in his best MC voice, " _date night!_ " 

Taeyong breaks into cheers and applause.

Already it's like a mountain's worth of pressure is evaporating into the cheerful atmosphere of the small kitchen. He can't count the number of weeks it's been since they had a proper date night, which probably indicates it'd be easier to count in _months_ , which can be more simply expressed in this statement: 

Taeyong really misses Ten.

He does. Even when they see each other on a schedule or with their friends, they're not really _together;_ they're groupmates, coworkers, friends. The times when they can truly be themselves are isolated to late night phone calls, stolen moments during group photoshoots, weighted glances in the practice rooms.

The result is a strange contradiction that Taeyong still struggles with, more than two years into their relationship: he sees Ten almost every day, and he misses him every day.

Ten bounces on his heels, looking just as excited as him. "I'll just tell the others!" Taeyong expects him to take out his phone but Ten, as always, hates being predictable. "DO YOU HEAR THAT, KUN?"he screeches, so loudly Taeyong would be worried about noise complaints if they lived around normal people. “IT’S DATE NIGHT, WHICH IS A NATIONAL FUCKING HOLIDAY, YOU KNOW THE RULES.”

Kun shouts something back in Mandarin that Ten peaceably ignores and Taeyong assumes involved copious swearing. He puts the ice cream in the freezer while Ten rounds up the other snacks and heads over to the couch. "Grab the drinks, Yongie?"

Taeyong does, and even hunts down a set of coasters too - for Kun's blood pressure. 

Ten is already curled up against the arm of the couch with his feet tucked under his legs and the chocolate wrapper shredded in his hands when he arrives. "Is everyone else out?" He collapses on his left like a sack of potatoes.

“Mhm.” Ten snaps off a chocolate piece and takes a bite. “Kun’s around - well, you heard him - but he’s hanging out with Renjun and Doyoung later, and I’ll make him tell the kids that date night rules are in effect.” Taeyong settles his arm around the back of the couch and accepts a chocolate square from Ten’s proffered fingers. 

“Wow, it’s good,” Taeyong notes as he chews. Ten agrees then snorts when their eyes meet. “What?” he asks. 

Ten puts the chocolate down and scoots closer until he’s practically in Taeyong’s lap, then cups his face. “You’re a mess.” He swipes his thumb across the corner of Taeyong’s mouth.

“Oh.” Taeyong blinks. “Is it gone?” 

Making a show of scrutinizing his face as he tilts Taeyong's head this way and that, Ten _hmms_. “I better make sure,” he concludes, and captures his lips like he's conducting a serious scientific study.

Taeyong yields to the kiss instantly, tilting his head back as Ten bears down on him, and arches into his touch. Ten methodically licks past his parted lips, the vanilla-flavored tackiness of his lip balm clinging and dragging with the friction of their mouths. The crawl of chilly, tantalizing finger-tips down the line of his jaw sparks shivers down his spine, then as they curl around his chin and coax his mouth open wider with the slightest amount of force Taeyong _groans_.

The contrasting hot-and-cold of Ten's touches permeates his senses and blankets his mind. He breathes shakily through his nose as the questing fingers scrape down the column of his neck and apply pressure at the base of it, a firm but easily breakable shackle around his neck, and a desperate sound tears out of his throat.

When Ten pulls away, eyes half lidded as Taeyong’s lower lip _pops_ out from between his teeth, Taeyong is jittery with desire and struggles to remember anything that’s not the weight of Ten in his lap or Ten's hands on his neck. He fixates on Ten's clever mouth like a beacon, bright pink and rubbed raw, as he chuckles. "I got all the chocolate, Yongie," he sing-songs, voice sticky and sweet like honey. 

“Oh,” he breathes, switching his gaze to Ten's blown-out eyes. “Are you sure?”

Ten laughs, which is almost as good as another kiss because of the way he squeezes Taeyong's shoulders for support as he rocks back onto his heels, and then _absolutely perfect_ when he ducks back in for another lingering kiss. "For now."

The problem is what comes immediately after he pulls away, when he extracts himself from Taeyong's lap with a flirtatious wink and goes right back to what he was doing earlier, unbothered. He pops another piece of chocolate between his teeth and licks his lips in devious satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Taeyong is a mess. 

The rapid fluctuation from his earlier bone-deep exhaustion to his current state of hyper stimulation can't be good for his heart. It's either very impressive for Ten or very embarrassing for Taeyong that he got so worked up in such a short amount of time. 

Regardless, it ends up taking nearly double that for his live-wire nerve endings to stop short circuiting. But in time his exhaustion, combined with the heat of Ten at his side, lulls him into a relaxed, boneless recline.

He runs his fingers through Ten's unstyled hair and closes his eyes.

There's no telling how much time passes like this. Ten munches quietly at his side for a while, then cracks open his coffee drink for a few sips. Taeyong is not quite asleep but not entirely awake when Ten sets all the snacks aside and stretches his legs over Taeyong's lap and cuddles in. He tucks his chilly hands into the front pocket of Taeyong's hoodie and noses into Taeyong's shoulder. Taeyong scratches experimentally over Ten's scalp and continues when it pulls satisfied rumbles from him, like the human equivalent of purring. 

Moments like this, born of absolute harmony and contentment, are so few and far-between that Taeyong cherishes them all the more when they happen. He could spend an eternity like this. 

So naturally, this is when they’re interrupted.

“Wow, when you said it was date night this isn’t what I expected,” a dry voice observes. Taeyong forces his eyes open just as Kun emerges from the hallway, hair and clothing clearly styled to go out. His grin is sharply amused. “Are you two eighty years old? And they tease _me_ for being old.”

Still clinging around Taeyong like a very stubborn scarf, Ten snarks back without opening his eyes. “Talk to me when you’ve had two straight weeks of 7AM to fuck-knows-after-midnight schedules, and had to spend four hours a day in the same room as Kai-hyung and Xuxi.”

“Hm. Worse than Hendery and Haechan?”

Ten deigns to open his eyes a fraction to convey his thoughts on this. “ _Much worse_. They’re like wild dogs.” He closes his eyes again and burrows into Taeyong’s chest. “Barking. Jumping. Chasing each other’s tails.”

Kun looks to Taeyong for confirmation, to which he can only shrug, because. “They’re...rambunctious,” he admits, and Kun winces. 

He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’ll allow it.” Ten _hmphs_ grouchily and subsumes back into Taeyong's chest, a clear rejection of this entire conversation. Taeyong smiles fondly, because a cantankerous Ten is nonetheless adorable to his lovestruck self.

Kun shakes his head in a long suffering way as he breezes past them, but his endeared smile betrays him. For all that Ten and Kun quarrel like cats and dogs, the mutual affection they share is at the core of every jab and taunt. "Have fun, you two."

Taeyong tilts his head backwards over the top of the couch and watches Kun shrug on his jacket upside-down. “We will. You look nice, Kun.”

“Tell the others if they dare come back here before 1 am they’re dead!!” Ten threatens.

Kun glares holes in the back of Ten's head, then resumes texting on his phone. “Thank you, Taeyong hyung. And don’t worry, after what happened last time I don’t think the little ones will violate the terms of date night ever again. Yang Yang still can’t look Taeyong hyung in the eyes.”

Taeyong nods sadly. “It’s true.” Even after spending long stretches of time with the younger WayV boys for their unit practices and joint promotions, their maknae still gets noticeably twitchy when Taeyong addresses him directly. 

“What did he think two consenting adults were going to do with the apartment to themselves, huh?” Ten demands, hair flying as he whips his head up dramatically and throws his arms out. Taeyong immediately misses the warmth of Ten leaning on his chest, so he snatches one of Ten’s hands out of the air and brings it to his cheek. He scatters a few kisses across his knuckles and veins, then flips it palm up and holds it against his face.

Kun grimaces like he's swallowed a lemon. It reminds Taeyong of Johnny's reaction back when he suggested raising centipedes. "Probably have crazy sex, like normal people!"

“We do!” Ten takes his hands away and puffs up like an angry peacock. “The craziest!” Taeyong bravely resists the urge to bury himself six feet under the earth or sink his head into the body of his hoodie like a turtle. He resigns himself to the fact that his boyfriend will always brazenly brag about their sex life at the slightest provocation. 

“Oh, I know,” Kun sneers viciously. “I share a wall with you, Lee Yong Qin.” 

_NEVERMIND. ABORT MISSION._

Taeyong casts about for any nearby pillows that could smother him into unconsciousness; they're just out of arm's reach, but no matter, he can turtle his way out of this. Would Ten notice if Taeyong disappeared into his hoodie and never came out? Actually, scratch that, he'd miss Ten too much. Maybe Ten could join him inside, it's pretty spacious? 

He must make some sort of pathetic noise, because Ten turns to him with a worried expression and touches his overheated ears. "Look at what you've done to Yongie!" he accuses with a murderous glare at Kun. He whines again, distraught, and Ten coos sweet nonsense and strokes his blazing cheeks.

 _“This!"_ Kun's outburst drags Ten's attention away from him again. "This is exactly the type of shit that traumatized our maknae, Ten.” The words carry a note of finality, like a judge proclaiming a sentence. “I don’t know how, but your domesticity is worse than the sex.”

Ten opens his mouth to unleash a scathing tirade about their sex and/or domestic life that will no doubt drive Taeyong further into his early grave, but some merciful god must have heard Taeyong's fervent prayers because Kun's phone pings at that exact moment and cuts him off. "My ride is here." Ten's mouth snaps shut. "Enjoy married life, old-timers."

Then he’s gone, and it’s just Ten, straddling Taeyong's lap while he sulks that he didn't get he last word in, and Taeyong.

Taeyong, who is suddenly and without warning, falling apart at the seams.

His thoughts are as scattered as a jigsaw puzzle. He keeps replaying Kun's words in his head, that last sentence, that - 

That _parting shot_. "Enjoy married life, old-timers!" 

A joke! An obvious joke! A joke about their ages more than anything else!

But the other half of it, the other _word_ \- 

Taeyong can't stop hearing it. It's like there's a bomb in his head but when it explodes there's no shrapnel, just _wedding bells_ and _engagement rings_ and all the things Taeyong has considered before, academically, but not like this.

Because Kun said it, not him, but the words _were said_ and now that they're out there - in the air - existing all around them - Taeyong almost wishes...

No.

No, he does, he _does wish_. 

He wishes they were true. 

Maybe not right now, right at this second; because getting marr- 

His breath skitters. Oh, he can't even _think_ that word without blushing. 

Getting _m-worded_ to another man while in the prime of his career as an idol - it's madness, clearly and absolutely, he knows that! - but his heart is leaping and jumping in his chest anyway. What's logic when you're in love? 

And he is, he's _so in love_ it hurts. He _wants_ it. Not now, not just 'someday' with 'someone', but _one day_ with _one person_. One day that he can feel, taste, touch. One day he sees reflected in the face of the person right before him.

One day, with Ten.

Maybe this is all happening too fast. He's never even thought about it until this very minute, but not a single doubt lingers in his mind. 

He knows, with heart stopping certainty, that this is what he wants. 

Nights like this one, for the rest of his life. 

While Taeyong tries to reconfigure the pieces of his scattered brain, Ten is comfortably settling in his lap and watching him with a curious expression. It's both apologetic and amused - a combination that would be contrived on anyone else but Ten, who's very contradictory by nature. "Sorry." He pets the baby hairs at Taeyong's temples. "I know how embarrassed you get. And as adorable as I find it, I know you like your privacy." He plants a kiss on Taeyong's forehead. 

It takes Taeyong's fried-out braincells a few extra seconds to glean Ten's meaning before it hits him: to anyone else it would seem like Taeyong's breakdown is over the notoriety of their sex life among their group mates. Honestly, Taeyong _is_ mortified, and he always will be, but he's altogether more preoccupied with other thoughts right now. Like: how many of their friends would cry at their wedding? and also: is Ten the type of person to enjoy breakfast in bed, or does he prefer a table? Does he roll his socks or does he fold them? Does Ten prefer to sleep closer to the heater, or is there a specific side of the bed he likes? and lastly: where should they go on their honeymoon?

Curious minds like Taeyong's have to know.

But he's not prepared to correct Ten on his assumption. It's been...what, five minutes? The m-word isn't something you casually mention to your significant other _five minutes_ after your friend makes a joke about it. It's something you hint at for months and months with strategically placed _Tiffany_ catalogues, or something.

Or would that be weird? Taeyong doesn't know where to find a _Tiffany_ catalogue. This whole thing has caught him really off-guard.

He forces himself to take a deep breath. He exhales, controlled and slow. 

These feelings clearly aren't going anywhere anytime soon, so Taeyong has plenty of time to sort them out later. Getting overwhelmed now will only worry Ten more, so he stops overthinking it. 

He focuses on Ten, admiring the sharp slopes and smooth planes of his lovely face. 

Everything else is extra: the hows, whys, whens, whats. There's only one salient point, and it's this: 

This is the person Taeyong wants to grow old with.

This beautiful, vivacious man who's grown up at his side: first a rival, then a friend, and forever the love of his life.

Ten smooths a lock of hair off his forehead, with eyes like starlight and a smile like Taeyong is his entire world. 

“It’s okay," Taeyong confesses into the quiet. “I’d let you tell the whole world if you wanted.”

In his mind is a vision of the two of them walking down the street hand in hand, matching gold bands on their fingers, but it shatters when Ten yelps, "You'd let me tell the entire world about our sex life?"

Taeyong opens and closes his mouth like a bullfrog. Oh. Of course he'd think-- he opens his mouth to clarify himself, but somehow instead of an unqualified denial, a terrible slip of honesty tumbles out instead. "I - Well, if it meant that everyone knew we were together..."

Heat floods his cheeks and Ten's eyes spark with interest. “I see,” he hums. “So you want people to know that I’m all yours, huh?” His voice takes on a husky undertone that Taeyong’s body is conditioned to respond to. Gooseflesh breaks out all over his skin. 

His heartbeat kicks up. “Yes,” Taeyong shudders. Ten leverages his position above him to pin him against the back of the couch with his hips, then body rolls against Taeyong's heaving chest. 

He lowers his mouth to Taeyong’s ear and takes it between his teeth. “Should I tell them how much I love being on my knees for you?” Taeyong flexes his grip on Ten's hips as he starts sucking on his neck, too light to leave a mark but enough to make Taeyong ache for it. He slips his hands under Ten’s sweater and rakes his nails up the smooth expanse of Ten's back.

Taeyong opens his mouth - to answer, or to beg Ten to suck just a little bit harder - but just then Ten pinches a bit of skin between his teeth, and a broken moan comes out instead. “Tell them anything, baby,” he grunts, voice gravelly and strained even to his own ears. 

A hot tongue laps over the place where teeth just were, soothing the spot over before a mark can form. It’s a disappointment but not a surprise. They have too many promotions right now, and they can’t use the excuse of being hormonal teenagers. But Taeyong closes his eyes and imagines it anyway: teeth and tongue trailing across his Adam’s apple, down to his collarbone; the edge of pleasure-pain as a hot mouth sucks bruises into his skin; a necklace around his neck spelling three letters, _T - E - N_ for everyone to see - 

And then like the mind reader he claims to be, Ten starts kissing along the trail Taeyong’s laid out in his mind, down down _down_ his throat while he writhes in Taeyong’s lap. He stops at the base of his neck and chuckles. “Then should they also know how keyed up you are after a performance, how we release all that energy together?” he taunts between languid licks and sucks.

Taeyong traces the shape of Ten’s chest tattoo with one hand and squeezes a handful of Ten’s thigh with the other. Ten always pulls his strings _just right_ , plays him like an instrument as he takes him from zero to a hundred with that wicked mouth of his, as clever with words as it is with nipping hot, messy kisses that dismantle Taeyong’s sanity.

But two can play the game Ten’s started. “How about you?” He flicks his thumb over Ten’s nipple and angles his head to give him better access to his collarbone. “All our groupmates already know how loud you get. Should the whole world hear you scream my name too?”

Ten bites too-hard on his neck, a momentary loss of control that stirs pride in Taeyong’s chest. “Baby,” he keens in a needy voice, nosing back up Taeyong’s neck and waiting for Taeyong to open his eyes to continue. “Your jealous streak is so much fun sometimes.”

Taeyong pouts and thwacks Ten’s hip. “I’m not jealous.” 

Ten snickers. “How many times are we going to disagree over this, do you think?”

“Until you admit that I’m right,” he sasses back. “Why should I be jealous? You’re already mine.”

“Exactly," Ten grins impishly, "so maybe you should stop trying to fry Baekhyun hyung with your brain whenever he touches me.”

Indignant, Taeyong bucks his hips, causing Ten to wobble precariously and scrabble at his hoodie for purchase. “I _do not_.”

“You _do!”_ Ten regains his balance and crosses his arms in a huff. “Do we need to watch my _As We Wish_ sketch again?”

Abruptly, the heady tension building between them snaps away, replaced by a sudden wave of spite that boils his blood. He bolts upright and this time Ten’s reflexes aren’t quick enough and he goes toppling right off his lap and back onto the couch. “Don’t you dare! I still can’t believe everyone got to see you be so cute and charming like that, how could you even deliver those lines without your skin crawling or your hair falling out, huh?”

Ten, still grumbling and hissing at his displacement like a tetchy housecat, spares him a narrow-eyed glance when he stops talking. He takes one look at Taeyong - indignant flush painted over his cheeks - and propels himself back into the couch cushions, this time from the force of his uproarious laughter. 

He rolls and flails about while his socked feet kick Taeyong's leg in a staccato rhythm. _“Hair falling out?”_ he cackles between labored breaths, “Wha-what?” 

Taeyong crosses his arms and pouts. Ten's amusement is charming in the most inconvenient way, because it's very difficult to maintain this level of self-righteous anger in the face of so much... cuteness. 

In fact, he'd postulate that are only two types of people with natural immunity to Ten's charm: sociopaths, which Taeyong is not; and Kim Doyoung, who Taeyong never wants to be.

Still, he clings to the fragments of his annoyance for appearance's sake. "Yah!" he barks, "Are you laughing at me, your boyfriend of two and a half years, right now?"

Ten laughs harder, gasping out a reply in English as he clutches his sides. “ _Yes!"_

Taeyong crosses his arms and sniffs. “ _You're s_ _o mean,"_ he responds in kind.

He's pretty proud of how far his English has improved over the summer of SuperM promotions. His confidence grows with every new word he learns, but this particular phrase is one of the first he learned in the language and an old favorite. Johnny might've taught it to him, or Ten, or more likely the two of them in cahoots. They used to take great amusement in trying to teach Taeyong bad words without his knowledge; this one was tame by their standards. 

The phrase succeeds in recapturing Ten's attention. Laughter fizzing into little puffs, Ten flaps his hands at Taeyong, then when Taeyong refuses to assist levers himself upright using only his core muscles. Taeyong isn't impressed by this at all, and is scowling at Ten when their eyes meet. He's _annoyed_. Ten swipes a finger under his eye. "Sometimes you're too cute, Yongie. Seriously, I have the cutest boyfriend in the world."

The final vestiges of his irritation melt away.

'Then I have the most charming one,' he nearly says, but to do so would be to admit defeat. Instead, he grouses one last complaint. _"So mean Ten."_

Ten sees right through his facade and giggles, then clears his throat to compose himself. "Aya," he sighs enormously. "Almost a thousand days of dating and this is how my _not-jealous_ boyfriend reacts, huh?" Then he smirks and springs to his feet suddenly, eyes glistening something manic.

Taeyong gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Within seconds, as Ten hunches into an absurd, rigid posture with his arms awkwardly stuck out perpendicular to the ground, Ten's performance takes shape and the pit in his stomach deepens. 

"Wahh, this is making me do stuff!" Ten cries in a high-pitched voice, bending his wrists and elbows in weird directions and shaking like there's an electric current running through him. He spins dramatically to face Taeyong and clutches his hands over his heart. "Ah, my heart hurts for some reason!" One dainty hand flies, palm up, to meet his forehead. He swoons and flutters his eyes shut. "Oh no, I can't watch this anymore!"

Taeyong's whole body burns. On the whole, it's not an entirely inaccurate impression of Taeyong's reaction to Ten's skit on the tvN studio stage. Still, he has his pride. "Ya, I didn't swoon!"

"No," Ten concedes with suspicious ease, “you just jumped out of your chair and told everyone you had an adrenaline rush watching me. I think that’s worse.”

The worst part is, Ten's not _wrong_.

Taeyong pushes out his lower lip and glares at Ten moodily through his lashes. "Okay, you win, just sit down and stop looking at me like that."

Ten obeys, strangely docile for someone who should be crowing their victory right now - because fine, it's possible that Taeyong can be, under certain circumstances, just the _tiniest bit jealous_ over Ten.

When his probing look is met with a steady gaze and a quiet smile, the pieces click together: Ten is giving him a break. He's being patient.

The sweetness thoughtfulness balances out the sour sting of being proven wrong. Patience doesn't come naturally to Ten - it's clear enough from watching his interactions with most other people - but Taeyong is a notable exception. 

It's like he knows Taeyong needs more time with his thoughts than other people, so he stores up all his patience and saves it for him.

Being treated with so much care, like he's precious and important, sends ripples of warmth through his insides. It's as fizzy and tingling as the first sip of soju, and even more intoxicating. He's never felt so known or understood in his entire life.

It’s the little things that build up into something greater: the way he teases Taeyong until he's red in the face then soothes his embarrassment away with doting words and sweet touches; or his sixth sense for knowing when Taeyong has skipped a meal, and no matter where he is someone will be at his door within hours - Ten himself, or any number of minions press-ganged into his servitude (Xiaojun and Mark come to mind) - with a package of food. Sometimes it's takeout, sometimes it's an extra serving of whatever Kun cooked, but it's always just what he needed.

It's the 3am phone calls from Ten, freshly woken from a nightmare, asking Taeyong to sing him to sleep. Calls which invariably coincide with the nights Taeyong is burning the midnight oil on some late-night project, so he has serious doubts regarding their legitimacy, but he plays along anyway and crawls into bed with the phone pressed to his ear. He picks a random melody and sings until he's so tired his voice fades, so Ten offers to pick up where he left off. And then Taeyong tucks his face into blankets that still smell like Ten, closes his eyes, and drifts until that mellifluous voice is the last thing he hears.

It's all the mornings after, when he opens his eyes to a text on his lockscreen - because as sweet as the movies make it seem, they've learned the hard way that staying on a call all night is hell on their phone batteries - that says _Goodnight handsome_. He replies ( _T_ _hank you, Tennie 💖)_ and it's everything he could ever want. 

Until now, at least. Now, it's not quite enough. He wants more than a text in the mornings. He wants the real thing.

The torrent of emotions swirling through his chest whips into an excited frenzy as everything culminates: the echo of Kun's taunting farewell, Ten's steady perseverance, the fantasy of having their love out in the open - and his fragile peace of mind crumbles like a house of cards. 

The words slip out without his permission. “You’re the best, Tennie."

He balls his fists at his side, overcome with the urge to smack his own forehead. When was the last time Ten made him so nervous he word-vomited? Taeyong is reaching levels of idiocy tonight unseen since the early days of their courtship.

He cringes as he recalls their first several dates. Taeyong spent a too-large chunk of them in a state of anxious over-sharing, chattering about Ten's nice hands and pretty voice and comparing his beauty to a sunflower.

"Um," he frantically backpedals, "in the show I mean, haha! Your acting was really good. _Really_."

No _way_ Ten buys that. He racks his brain. Did Ten find Taeyong's terrible awkwardness cute back then? He must have, or else he would've dumped him, right?

Ten tilts his head with bird-like confusion. “Oh? Uh, thank you Taeyong-ah.”

“ _Really,_ ” he stresses, “I might be a little jealous of the actress, but I don't want you to think I didn't like the skit! You did amazing." Ten peers at him, assessing and suspicious and knowing all at once.

Alarm bells ring in his head. Whatever the opposite of commitment-phobia is, Taeyong is sure he _reeks_ of it. Does Taeyong look like the sort of person who keeps clippings of wedding inspiration photos on his wall? (He doesn't, but he might start now.) Or did Kun leave a post-it note on his forehead saying _'M-word This Idiot'_ while he wasn't looking? 

Most urgently: can Ten hear his heartbeat, or is it just in Taeyong's head?

“Hmmm, is that so?” Ten presses. Taeyong sweats under his piercing gaze, then Ten breaks into an easy smile. “Was I cool?” He kicks his legs out and strikes a silly pose, winking at Taeyong coyly from over his shoulder.

Taeyong relaxes. That was a close call.

“More like adorable,” he corrects, snatching Ten's ankles out of the air. Ten makes an affronted noise and squirms in Taeyong’s grip, but Taeyong holds fast. “And very pretty.” Ten struggles harder and demands his freedom, but Taeyong decides to have some fun with him instead. 

He smirks, tightens his grip on Ten's ankles, and _pulls_. 

Ten catches on a fraction too late, his panicked call of " _Don't you da-"_ cut off by own shrill scream as he overbalances and bounces back onto the couch. "You brute!"

Taeyong manhandles Ten's thrashing legs and drags him, inch by inch, over the couch cushions. Ten gasps like the scandalized and modest young lead in a k-drama, but has trouble biting back his smile and doesn't put up much of a fight. In fact, he even spreads his thighs wider as Taeyong reels him in closer, to make it easier. Taeyong maneuvers him so that Ten's thighs form an open V around his hips, then lets go.

Ten peeks his head up. "What, that's it?"

Taeyong smiles evasively. He shifts around into a position where his legs overlap Ten's, and plants a heel on either side of Ten's torso. "There," he observes with satisfaction.

His boyfriend props himself up on his elbows, eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he looks at their interlocked limbs. When he sits all the way up, their torsos and groins come within scant inches of each other and Taeyong closes his knees around Ten's sides, locking him in. 

The end result is a twisty, cozy, Ten-and-Taeyong pretzel. Ten laughs and gamely hooks his ankles behind Taeyong's butt.

“You’re so handsy today,” he chides, like he isn't the one sliding greedy hands further and further up Taeyong's inner thigh.

He links his arms behind Ten's neck and enjoys the close-up view of the other. "Guess I wanted to be closer to my _cool_ boyfriend."

Ten brightens. “Right? I was very suave, I thought.”

Taeyong plays along and nods. “That move where you put her hair behind her ear before giving her the earbud?” He shakes his head in faux amazement and claps his hands for dramatic effect. “Wow. Really, wow.” 

Just as he anticipated, Ten's eyes narrow to dangerous slits. "You'll regret doubting me," he warns in a grave tone of voice.

And Taeyong has known Ten long enough to understand that any more amount of teasing will be perceived as a direct challenge, and handled accordingly.

So he crosses his arms and sits back. "Prove it."

It's the nail in the coffin. Ten, suddenly so close that he eclipses Taeyong's vision, breathes his reply across his lips. “I will.” 

He blinks and Ten’s gone again, stretching and rolling out the cricks in his neck like a boxer before they step inside the ring. 

Then: a switch flips. Ten transforms with an ease that squeezes the air from Taeyong's lungs. He bears no resemblance to the sly, cheeky boy from moments ago. His brown eyes are trained on Taeyong, deep like the moonlit sea and just as impenetrable. In the place of a boisterous smile, a diminutive and thoughtful expression curves one end of his lips.

The silence is thick as the atmosphere turns charged and expectant. Ten holds his gaze and Taeyong's body buzzes. 

Time slows to a crawl as Ten finally moves, tipping gradually into his space and holding his hand outstretched, telegraphing his every intention so strongly that Taeyong shivers before the fingers even touch his skin - skimming feather-light across his cheekbone, caressing the shell of his ear. 

He follows the script, and it's the same: the way Ten tucks a lock of hair behind his ear, the way Taeyong's blood burns at the intimate gesture.

The difference now is _he's_ the focal point of Ten's attention, _he_ object of his devoted gaze, Taeyong and no one else.

Ten’s eyes are half-lidded, misty and gentle beneath his lashes. “This is the part where I would put the headphone in your ear,” he murmurs in a low voice, words falling like kisses on his cheek. Taeyong blinks, caught in a dizzying wave of desire that threatens his tenuous control. He considers closing the gap between them and ending this game, but he’s paralyzed under Ten’s touch: reverent, delicate, like Taeyong is made of gold.

The moment stretches for an infinity, the two of them trapped in this single heartbeat, seconds away from coming together or flying apart.

Then Ten moves, the bubble bursts, and time slides back into focus.

Taeyong tries not to be disappointed, but the cold of Ten's absence makes him shiver. After a few quiet beats, his brain catches up to the events of the last few minutes and he stares at Ten, mouth agape.

Heat builds at the base of his neck. Ten watches him, lips twitching.

Taeyong drops his head into his hands and caves like an underbaked cake. "Oh gosh," he groans.

Ten's gleeful hoots fill the living room. “Ya, you’re blushing so much!”

“Tennie!” he whines. “Seriously, that was too much! What have you done to my heart?” He refuses to uncover his face but slides two fingers down to his neck to measure his pulse. “I think it’s too fast, what will you do if I have to go to the hospital? Will you pay for my medical bills?” Ten chortles and grabs lightly at Taeyong's wrists.

“Really, why are your hands always so cold?” he mumbles. Ten's answer is another wordless tug, so Taeyong sacrifices his pride and unshields his face. He wraps his warmer hands around Ten's poorly circulated ones and sulks.

“Well," Ten begins, radiating smug satisfaction, "Doyoung is my emergency contact so first I'd call him, and he'd drive us to the hospital. Then I'd nurse you back to health personally, because I'm a very good boyfriend." He threads their fingers together as he prattles on. "And lastly, Yongie, we both have the same insurance plan and it's a good one, so _no._ "

Wow.

Taeyong has a lot of questions.

One: how often has Ten thought about this possibility to have a contingency plan on the tip of his tongue? And two: “ _Doyoung_ is your emergency contact?” he gawks. It’s not that Ten and Doyoung aren’t friends, per se, but more the fact that their friendship is akin to two alleycats taking swipes at each other as they circle the same can of tuna.

To be clear: Taeyong is the tuna. 

Ten shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Well first is my manager - no offense, he has all my health information and with the language barriers - anyway, so he’s first. Second is you,” he squeezes Taeyong’s fingers, “and last is Doyoung, because in the event that someone can’t get a hold of you, he’s the next best thing.”

Taeyong melts. “Oh.” 

Ten rolls his eyes indulgently. “Yes, _oh_. So," he transitions with an impish smile, "back to my 'amazing' acting. Do you admit that I made your heart flutter with my smoothness?”

At least they're done talking about his jealousy-complex. He sighs, "Yes.”

“Did it flutter when I said the way the artist loved his muse was nothing compared to my love?” Taeyong’s heartbeat spikes again but Ten is only getting warmed up and returns his baleful glare with a transparently mischievous look. Taeyong ducks behind their clasped hands, hoping to cool his cheeks.

“Yes,” he admits. 

Ten releases his hands and places his palms on either side of Taeyong’s neck. He narrows the gap between them and flutters his eyes prettily. “How about when I proposed by saying I wanted to spend eternity together?”

The _m-word_ flies through Taeyong’s brain like a grenade, upsetting the already-unsteady waters of his mind. Does Ten know how much this conversation is torturing him? He frowns. “ _Yes_.”

The edges of Ten’s smirk soften with tenderness while his eyes glitter with some unknown emotion. He slides his hands up to cup his jaw and brushes their noses together in a kitten-kiss, innocent and sweet. He tilts back an inch to meet his eye. “And how about when I said that I would live a thousand lifetimes alone if it meant I could spend just one at your side?”

Taeyong searches Ten’s face. “You didn’t say that.” He’s memorized Ten’s skit front to back; how could he not, when his boyfriend delivered such loving and convincing lines to someone that wasn't him? 

“I didn’t?” Ten echoes, trailing his hands down Taeyong’s torso and stroking across his ribs.

Taeyong shakes his head. “Didn’t.”

Ten’s nose scrunches as he smiles. “You’re right.” He kisses the corner of Taeyong’s mouth once, twice, then pulls away, expression unmistakably smitten. “I only say that to you.”

Adrenaline courses through his body and twists his insides into funny shapes. He stares at Ten with his heart in his throat. If he could, he'd bottle up this moment like a ship in a glass bottle to keep at his side forever, perfect and pure and golden. 

But instead of saying any of this Taeyong, a known and experienced idiot, gapes at Ten like a fish for so long that Ten winces self-consciously and backs away. "Too cheesy?"

“No!” he yells, yanking him back in by the front of his sweater. He twists his fingers in the soft fabric and meets Ten's hesitant gaze. "I like it a lot," he says softly. "Please be more cheesy in the future."

The apples of Ten’s cheeks burst into rosy pleasure. "Oh, okay," he laughs with relief. "I'll try not to cringe next time."

Taeyong smiles back and places a hand over Ten's heart. "I'll try too." Ten covers Taeyong's hand with his own and beams. 

A comfortable quiet settles over them, warm and familiar like a favorite blanket.

Suddenly Ten perks up like he’s remembered something. “Oh! You were really cool in your scene too, you know. Such a handsome cafe boy.”

Taeyong grimaces and waves his hands. “No, no. I was so awkward, I couldn’t even stand it. I’m no actor.”

Impassioned, Ten shakes his head. “No, really!” he insists. “The way you confessed?” He bats his eyes in a sultry look and lowers his voice. “ _I fell for you,”_ he mimics, then shimmies in an over-dramatic shiver. “I got chills, really.”

“Really?” Taeyong hides his smile.

“ _Really_. Go ahead, say it to me.”

Taeyong laughs. Ten doesn't. “Oh, seriously? Okay.” He schools his features and clears his throat. It’s a little awkward getting into character with Ten's expectant stare on him, but he manages. 

Besides, it should be significantly easier now that he doesn't have to _pretend_ to be in love.

He meets Ten’s gaze and pulls the words straight from his heart. “I fell for you.”

Ten goes pink and captures his smiling bottom lip between his teeth. “Oooooooo,” he trembles. “Look, look!” He pushes up his sleeve and thrusts his arm in his face. “Goosebumps.” 

The tiny, baby-soft hairs on Ten’s forearm stand visibly perpendicular to his prickled flesh. “Wow, there really is.” 

Ten withdraws his arm with a triumphant hurrah. “See! You know, it reminded me of us. The way you confessed to me.” His ensuing sigh is dreamy and fond. “You’ve always been the brave one.”

Shame gathers around Taeyong like a stormcloud. That couldn't be farther from the truth. Reminders of his cowardice tonight weigh down his stomach like bricks. "No, I'm really not."

Ten sits up sharply, picking up on his tone immediately. “Hey, what’s this about?” 

He casts about for an excuse not to meet Ten's too-perceptive gaze, and picks idly at the hem of his hoodie. "Nothing, it's nothing. I just." Not willing to lie but too scared to tell the whole truth, he settles for something in the middle. "Sometimes I get scared too." He flicks an anxious glance at Ten.

The bald, open affection written across his face quiets the thundering in Taeyong's head. "Of course you do, everyone does. That's what makes you so brave." Taeyong opens his mouth to disagree, but Ten stalls him with a single look. "But you don't always have to be. I'll be brave for us too, okay?" Ten's voice is a firm contrast to the gentle way he gathers Tayeong's hands and kisses across his knuckles.

"Okay," he smiles a little. He pulls Ten into his chest and kisses the top of his head. "Thank you."

Ten hums and molds to his chest like putty. His next words come out muffled as he pushes his face deeper into the crook of Taeyong's neck and shoulder. “There’s nothing to thank.”

It's remarkable, how they fit together like they were never meant to be apart. Taeyong sighs, his breath ruffling the soft strands of Ten's hair. The seconds tick by, marked by the waning cadence of Ten's deep, slow exhales against his skin, and the increasing sense of fearlessness building in Taeyong's chest. One by one, his insecurities trickle away like grains of sand washed to sea. 

Everything is a lot less scary when things feel so _right_ , and it's so much easier to think about the things he wants without fear of rejection.

Maybe that's why his mouth hijacks his brain and decides to initiate the conversation he's been tormenting himself over all night: "Do you think you'd really propose to someone like that?"

Oops. 

“Like my scene?” Ten snuffles sleepily into Taeyong’s neck and trails warm kisses from his Adam’s apple to the base of his neck, where he pauses to thoughtfully scrape his teeth along the chorded muscle. “No,” he says through another line of kisses, drawing closer to Taeyong’s clavicle. He nuzzles it and dips his tongue into the divot of his collarbone. 

He really can’t focus when Ten does that, so Taeyong forms a loose grip in Ten's hair and pulls insistently on the strands. A gruff noise escapes Ten’s throat as he tries to cling to Taeyong’s neck like a vampire, but Taeyong ultimately prevails and Ten sits back with a peevish glare. He twists his lips in a vexed frown. “Everyone’s already seen it, so that’s no fun. It was on national television.”

“Hm, that's true,” he concedes and pets his ruffled hair in apology. At first Ten tries to squirm away, but Taeyong applies light pressure to his scalp between strokes and before long, he's making that happy purring sound again as he pushes into the contact. Taeyong smiles. "It's such a romantic idea though," he continues. 

“Mmm, it is,” Ten agrees, voice drowsy and eyes hazy as he blinks up at Taeyong. "I think I made it too good, don't you? How am I going to top that?"

Taeyong snickers. Vulnerable isn't a word he'd usually attribute to his notoriously sharp-witted boyfriend, but where sleepy cuddles bolster Taeyong's confidence and courage, they render Ten uncommonly trusting and vulnerable. It's as cute as it is touching to see his feral boyfriend transformed into such a candid, marshmallow soft creature for Taeyong's eyes only.

And he won't lie, it's also his favorite relationship hack. 

Doyoung says it's cheating to wait until he and Ten are half-asleep and cuddling to start a serious conversation, but Taeyong disagrees. For one thing, his bravery levels are directly tied to the total surface area of their skin-to-skin contact. For another, it's a lot harder for Ten to artfully misdirect or put up walls when he's too tired and too comfortable to over-think.

It's a win-win.

And it's not like Taeyong is taking advantage of the situation either, because Ten sees through the attempts every single time and calls him out for his use of _"dirty tactics"_. But unlike Doyoung, he's impressed rather than insulted by Taeyong's craftiness, and follows his lead.

He wonders how long it will take Ten to catch on to him this time.

“Well, you must have some idea of how you’d propose to someone, right?” Ten blinks heavily as Taeyong’s fingers rhythmically card through his hair. It takes longer and longer for his eyes to re-open each time, then Ten violently shakes his head like he's snapping out of a daze. 

“Stop, your magic hands are gonna put me to sleep,” he complains loudly, batting Taeyong’s hands away and resituating himself at a safe distance away. He rubs his tired eyes and waggles a finger at Taeyong. “Yah, you’re so sneaky, always trying to trick me into telling you things.”

 _Not long, then_.

Taeyong lifts his hands up innocently. “Who, me? I’d never.” 

Ten tsks. “Your doe-eyes don’t work on me, Lee Taeyong.” Taeyong mercifully lets that statement go unchecked. He has his eyes on a bigger prize. “Nope, can’t tell you," he shuts down before Taeyong even opens his mouth. "That’s highly confidential information.”

Taeyong cocks his head cutely. “Why not?” He reaches out to get his hands back on Ten’s head - not so he can lull Ten back into a state more suitable for questioning about the _m-word_ , obviously - it's just really soothing for Taeyong to have his hands busy. Really! But Ten dodges with the speed and agility of a viper, landing another reproving strike on his hands.

“Come on," Taeyong needles in his whiniest voice, "I know you must have some idea." He makes a third attempt for Ten's hair, only to have his hands caught in mid-air. They struggle for power, arms shaking and straining from the effort, and just when Taeyong's got Ten's forearm twisted at just the right angle - Ten cracks.

"I can't tell you because then you'll see it coming!" he blurts.

They freeze.

Taeyong's hands drop like stones to his sides.

_Then you’ll see it coming._

_You, Lee Taeyong. You’ll see it -_

“Me?” he repeats numbly.

 _Then_ **you’ll** _see it coming!_

**_You you you you_ **

It’s a broken record scratching in his head, the same words echoing round and round with no meaning, just sounds - just the word _you, you, you_ \- just the look on Ten’s face, morphing from shock to panic as Taeyong continues to sit there, staring - just the shape of Ten’s lips as they stiffen and curl into a worried frown - just _you’ll see it coming, you Taeyong_ **_you Lee Taeyong you you_**

“I mean--” Ten starts, then stops. “I.”

A thousand endings for that sentence thunder through his brain like a hail of gunfire. _I didn’t mean that_ \- _I’m sorry_ \- _I was speaking generally - I’m just kidding! -_ and he clenches his fists hard enough for his nails to bite into his palms and sting. 

“Taeyong…” Ten has a look on his face like he’s about to beg Taeyong for forgiveness, and the contents of Taeyong's stomach threaten to rise back up his throat. “Did I mess up?”

He’s so terrified, his voice shakes. “I don’t know...did you mean it?”

Ten bristles, looking bewildered instead of guilty for a moment. “What? Of course I meant it. What I mean is, did I take it too far?”

Oh.

“You meant it,” Taeyong echos. 

_Of course I meant it._

The seconds pass as Ten’s pallor steadily balances back out from its ghostly paleness, and his brow wrinkles in confusion. “You’re not upset about what I said?” he asks slowly.

_I can’t tell you because then you’ll see it coming!_

“No,” he manages, foggy and uncertain as 99% of his brain activity flat lines while the remaining 1% lifts off into the stratosphere.

He’s barely aware of anything - Ten's voice, fuzzy in the distance, _"...haven't talked about it, I know.."_ \- over the percussive symphony of his heartbeat in his ears and the implications of Ten's outburst curling around his heart and roaring like a dragon. The air is buzzing and electric, a collection of white noise between which bursts of outside noise filter in. There's words, something like _"..if you're not. But when I think of my life in five, fifty years, you're..."_ but Taeyong loses the thread quickly. And he's hot, _too hot_ , he's shaking, his heart is one giant firework, a stick of dynamite in his chest and he's going to burn up - and then he’ll never get a chance to hear Ten’s proposal and Ten will be sad but eventually he’ll meet someone else and propose to _them_ and then _they’ll_ get m--

“Hyung?”

It shocks Taeyong back into reality. Something must be wrong for him to address Taeyong like that off-camera.

He looks at Ten, who's watching him with baited breath, expression caught somewhere between cautious happiness and devastation. His teeth gnaw anxiously at his lower lip.

Oh. He's just as scared as Taeyong.

Taeyong attempts a reassuring smile, but it crumples as his lips wobble. "I'm okay," he promises. He reaches out with a trembling hand, unsurprised when his vision clouds over and paints Ten's worried face a blurry blob. He blinks it away and it trails down his cheeks, cold and wet, as he takes Ten's cheek in his palm. "Everything is okay, baby." He laughs, edged with hysteria and choked with tears. "Okay. Okay." He takes a deep breath. "You really mean it?"

Ten's eyes glisten in the low light, but his voice is steady. "Yes."

He thumbs away the moisture under Ten's eyes. "Surprise me, then."

Joy and relief bloom over Ten like a sunrise. He laughs, sharp and punched out like a sob, and buries his grin in Tayeong’s hand. He layers kiss after frantic kiss across Taeyong’s palm, the curve of his smile like a balm on his skin, his grounding touch an anchor to Taeyong's soaring heart.

Ten's voice shakes as he exhales. “You had me so worried."

“I know,” Taeyong apologizes, still smiling so wide it hurts. “I didn’t expect you to say that. You’re good at surprising me.”

Ten laughs through his nose. “If this is how you reacted now, I wonder what you’ll do when I _actually_ propose to you?”

At those words, a wave of euphoria crashes over him, so powerful his vision swims and he loses his breath. To hear Ten say that _out loud -_ out loud, with that smile, while _looking at him_ -

He stares at Ten’s lips, desperate to hear it again. He traces their outline with his thumb, satin lips pliant and soft as they purse against the pad of his finger in a brief peck.

“I’ll say yes,” he answers without thinking. His candor pulls Ten up short, his gratifying gasp the perfect opportunity for Taeyong to capture those lips. 

It's a perfect kiss: one that tastes of vanilla lip balm and salt and forever. 

Ten sighs through his nose and pulls him closer by the strings of his hoodie. Taeyong makes to break away but Ten protests high in his throat, so he dives back in with greater enthusiasm. “Can’t wait to say yes to you, Tennie,” he sighs between kisses.

His mind is rocketing back into the clouds again as he envisions it: the day that future Ten springs a proposal on future Taeyong that will have him in tears before the first sentence is out and answering before he even asks. It hasn't happened yet and he has no idea when it will, but it's already the happiest day of his life.

A wiser person might tell him he's being too rash - that he should be cautious about deciding on the biggest commitment of his life in a single evening, that they should talk about it logically - but he can't find any space inside his heart for fear or limitations. It's too full of Ten.

For the first time tonight, his mind is truly quiet. With Ten's lips and hands holding him together, with his promise coiled around his heart, he knows the truth with certainty.

No matter what the future brings, he'll never face it alone. He'll have Ten at his side every step of the way.

Emboldened by this thought he surges into their kiss, but as soon as he shifts his weight they go tumbling down like jenga blocks, one on top of the other. Taeyong throws his arms out frantically to catch himself, saving them from collision by a mere few inches.

A beat passes in stunned confusion as they take in their new positions: Taeyong crouched on all fours above Ten like a predator, Ten wide-eyed and trapped beneath him.

The rubber band of on-and-off tension between them stretches razor thin and _snaps_ as they lock eyes.

Taeyong's nerves crackle. For the first time that night, he has the upper hand. What's more, he can still see the sheen of wetness in Ten's eyes and hear the promise of forever in his ears, and it's not just his blood that burns for Ten, it's his heart and his soul and his _everything_.

It's sensory overload as he drinks in the sight of Ten beneath him: the disheveled mess of his silky hair, the tantalizing plunge of his stolen, too-large sweater, the beckoning glint in those dark eyes. 

Taeyong closes the gap between them with intent.

Ten lifts a forestalling hand between them, fingers splaying against Taeyong's mouth and chin to hold him at bay. "Wait," he protests, following up with a slew of words that fall on deaf ears, but Taeyong won't be distracted or deterred. He parts his lips and draws Ten's thumb into his mouth.

Ten cuts himself off with a sharp keen. Taeyong digs the edge of his teeth into the sensitive pad, then seals his lips around the finger and _sucks_. 

"Ah, Yongie," Ten pants. Taeyong laves his tongue over the captured digit, pleased when Ten's focus drifts and fixates on the movement of his mouth. He presses down on Taeyong's tongue with his thumb, protests growing more faint when Taeyong flutters his eyes shut and groans at the pressure. "I said, you have to let me ask you first, okay?"

Taeyong releases Ten's thumb and tries to place the sentence in context, but it’s hard. Ten, who’s been pulling his strings like a yo-yo all evening, who's flushed with exertion and desire, and who just verbally stated his intent to _propose to Taeyong_ , is finally right where he wants him - so it’s a moot effort.

Ultimately, Ten doesn’t give him time to think it over anyway. He drags him back down with a hand on his neck and another pawing at his waistband. "Just say okay baby," he croons and tilts his hips up so they grind into Taeyong's. 

Helpless, Taeyong rasps his response. "Okay, baby." 

Rewarding his compliance with a squeeze around his neck, Ten slips a hand down the front of his joggers. "Good boy," he praises.

After that, Taeyong is more than happy to let Ten have the final word. 

-♡-

It’s not until much later, when the dorm is perfumed with the smell of Ten’s eucalyptus shampoo and they’re trading bites of cake on the couch in their matching pyjamas, that the topic of proposals is brought up again. 

“I really thought the woman at the cafe might have eaten the ring,” Ten confesses as he forks up another bite and holds it to his face for inspection. “I’d be too afraid of breaking your teeth or choking you to put it in your food, Yongie. That’s the only hint I’ll ever give you, okay?”

Taeyong giggles at Ten’s earnest expression and swallows his bite. “That’s good, because I’m also afraid you’ll cook it into my food and poison me. I’ll live in fear of every food you ever cook for me.”

Ten shoots him a shocked and affronted stare. "Wow, see if I ever cook for you at all with this attitude!”

Taeyong laughs and bumps their elbows together. “It’s okay, I like cooking for us.” He cuts off a piece of his cake and holds it up to Ten’s mouth. Ten accepts grudgingly, and chews it with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. His glasses slip a few centimeters down the bridge of his nose, skin still damp from their mask treatments, so Taeyong nudges them carefully back up with his pointer finger. 

Aware that he’s being evaluated on some metric he doesn’t understand, Taeyong simply takes another bite of cake and waits it out. At last, the boy swallows and puts his plate down between his crossed legs. “Okay,” he says, and pecks Taeyong on the cheek. Taeyong snorts through his mouthful of cake and covers his mouth while he laughs.

“Okay?”

“Yes.” Ten nods. “Okay, I won’t poison you. And I probably won’t cook for you a lot, because you’re a great boyfriend and you’ll be an even better husband,” and here Taeyong’s glad he's already swallowed because he proceeds to _choke on thin air -_ the room spins, his life flashes before his eyes - while Ten continues nonchalantly, "but when I do, you don't have to worry about rings or metal in your food. Deal?"

Taeyong balks. “H-hus-” he attempts, then swallows. “That’s - that’s even more than the m-word, and you just said it--”

“Huh? What did I say? What m-word?” Ten parrots, scrunching his face in bemusement. His eyes go unfocused, like he’s replaying the last three hours to pin point the exact time and place Taeyong lost his mind, and then it happens: a slow, incredulous _knowing_ dawns over him, and his jaw drops. 

“Yongie. Are you talking about,” he pauses for effect, “ _marriage?”_

Taeyong almost denies it, but the situation speaks for itself. “ _Ha_ ,” he manages, “You said it.”

A smile creeps across Ten’s face. “I did, future husband of mine." Taeyong squeaks. "And let me guess: has this been on your mind since Kun called us an old married couple?”

Taeyong sucks in a gulp of air, then slumps over and blows it all out. "Yes." 

A beat passes, then two, and the devastating crush of rejection never comes. In fact, he doesn't even feel embarrassed. 

Ten hasn't run away screaming - or worse, _laughing_ \- the ground hasn't split open and swallowed him, there's no one running up to him with a camera in hand yelling _"PSYCH!",_ and best of all the elephant Kun set loose in the room can finally go on its merry way and disturb some other anxious individual. 

All is good.

He peers tentatively up at his boyfriend to gauge his reaction.

Ten is already watching him, lips curled around his fork with a smile like Taeyong is the greatest thing he's ever seen. He breaks the silence with a single word: "Cute."

Taeyong is at once gratified and flustered, so he shoves some cake in his mouth and tries to get the conversation back on track. “Anyway, what’s this deal I’m agreeing to? What do I have to do?”

“Just get used to saying the word _marriage_ before we tie the knot, or it’s going to be awkward,” he jokes with a fond look. “Oh, and sit back and let yourself be surprised by my amazing proposal.”

He giggles a little in excitement. “ _Amazing_ , huh?” Ten smiles in a cunning way. Knowing him, he'll pull out all the stops to thrill and shock him. “Tennie, you could put a ring in my shoe one morning and I would still say yes.”

Ten screws his face up in disgust. “Ew, a shoe? You want me to put the ring in your _shoe?”_

Taeyong flaps his hands. “No! That’s just an example. What I mean is, none of that matters to me as much as the fact that it’s _you_ putting the ring in my shoe - you can put it anywhere, is what I mean -” he catches Ten’s wide eyed look as he struggles not to interject with an innuendo, so Taeyong hurries along, “Because it’s you, I don’t care how you do it. I’ll always want to marry you.”

There, he said it. He really said it. And Ten is watching him with a besotted expression even when a quick scan below the nose shows his lips battling against the urge to laugh outright, and a glance even lower reveals already trembling shoulders. It warms Taeyong all the same, because he’s finally taken the leap and said what’s truly in his heart and Ten is here to catch him, like always.

"Yongie,” he coos, sweet but strained, and takes Taeyong’s hands in his. “That was the loveliest thing anyone’s ever said to me and I’m really touched. I love you so much. I’ll always want to marry you too. But one of us has to care, or else I really will propose to you in a shoe and your mom will hate me and all our friends will laugh at us. So baby, please don’t come up with any more ideas, okay? Leave it to me.” He plants a smiling kiss on Taeyong's knuckles to soften the blow.

Taeyong sighs, put-upon, but accepts the kiss with grace. “Is that my side of the deal?” 

Ten nods with authority. “Yes. Do we have a deal?” He sticks out his hand. 

Pretending to think about it, Taeyong strokes his chin and sighs again, so heavy that his shoulders droop. “Ah, gosh, what a decision.” Ten smacks him in the arm and Taeyong gives in with a laugh. “Okay, deal.”

He clasps Ten’s smaller hand in his own and rubs circles into the back of it. Ten returns his gaze with a smile so wide it creases his face in lovely laugh lines and squishes his eyes into happy half-moons.

“I’ll anticipate your proposal, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul,” Taeyong promises, following the pull of his body into Ten’s gravity. 

Ten meets him halfway. “I’ll anticipate your acceptance, Lee Taeyong.”

They kiss, and something is born between them in that moment. It radiates from their souls, spilling across the room like sunshine and shining like a beacon in the night.

It's alive, the thread that ties their beating hearts in an unbreakable bond. It's the very air they breathe, the hum of companionship as they pass the evening in soft conversation and a warm embrace.

It's their friends, snickering as they trickle into the dorm past one, hushed while they pull out their phones to take incriminating photos of the pile-up of sleeping people and animals on the couch (all of whom nearly wake when Yang Yang hisses “Oh my _god_ , there’s drool on Ten-hyung’s cheek, do you see it? I have to send this to everyone”, a catastrophe only averted when Kun slaps a hand over the maknae’s mouth and confiscates his phone). 

It's the bond of family, Kun's return after the others have trudged off to their separate rooms to scoop Leon from Taeyong's feet and nudge Ten awake, his chides of, _"Dummy, think of how your elderly necks will feel if you sleep out here all night!"_ (and his subsequent, _"_ _Also,_ _I_ _really hope you guys just fell asleep out here after having sex in your actual bed, but never tell me if I’m wrong.")_

It’s Taeyong, as he mumbles drowsily and blinks awake to a faceful of Louis’ fur, the both of them cuddled on Ten’s chest. It’s Ten, linking their hands together and guiding them into his bedroom.

It’s the two of them, sighing when their heads hit the pillow and curling together like magnets. It’s the steady, synchronous drum of two hearts at peace, and the safety that comes from falling asleep in the arms of the person you love most.

It’s love, but it’s more than that too. It’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> 12k words later and they didn't even get engaged
> 
> me: i can't believe i wrote this  
> also me: already has confession AND proposal companion pieces stewing in my drafts
> 
> twitter is cursed but i lurk on there sometimes so come chat! i don't bite and i'm house trained :)
> 
> [hiii ](https://twitter.com/taetenmess)


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